Fiery Revenge⎪✓

09

☀︎

"I need another transfer," My cold voice cuts through the tense air. Straightening my back, I stare the man down standing in front of me. "If you feel like this is unfair, then place your complaint elsewhere. You knew the consequences of getting involved with me, do you understand what I'm saying?"

He glares at me, clearly unimpressed with the way his life has turned out, "Ms. Martinelli, won't you cut me some slack? Do you know what this life is like? You've never had to live through hell and still manage to survive. This life isn't for me!"

"You chose this life for yourself, Mike," I tell him, not bothering to correct his words. "Bring me my money, right this fucking instance, or accept the fate that lies in my hands."

He takes a step away from me, the darkness of the alley not offering him any cover. A smirk grows on my lips by the panicked expression in his eyes, taking a step closer to his shaking frame, "Running won't help you. I'll hunt you down."

"Can't you spare me this once?" He pleads, the horror written behind his eyes. 

"Spare you?" I scoff. "I already have, Mike. This is me being perfectly fucking civil, would you like for me to grow ruthless? Would you prefer that side of me?"

"No," He states.

"Then bring me my fucking money! I gave you those drugs and expected money in return, the issue here is that you probably used the drugs yourself. I should've known, non ci si può fidare." (You can't be trusted) I speak to him, my attitude shifting to the worse. He shouldn't test me, he knows better than anyone how dangerous I can be. 

He has seen me kill. 

"I don't have the money," He mutters, the words tumble from his lips. 

"Repeat yourself."

"I don't have your money," He states in a louder tone. 

"Oh, Mike," I tut and inch closer to him. "Do you know what's more dangerous than crossing me?"

He shakes his head. 

"If you lose my interest, that is dangerous. You've managed to mess with my money and slowly lose my interest, will you tell me where that might lead to?" 

"I don't want to," He whispers.

"Of course, you don't."

Mike opens his mouth, "Eloisa-"

"Do not call me that."

"Sorry," He breathes with a shaky frame. "Ms. Martinelli. I've heard a lot about you. In this world, you're an enigma and no one knows who you are or why you're here. What I do know, is that you have an ounce of human decency left in you. So will you please let me explain what happened to the drugs? Don't just kill me, allow me to tell you what happened."

My mind surges with the old Eloisa, she has a tendency to appear when someone shows signs of being authentic. Mike seems authentic. Something definitely happened and it wasn't as simple as him crossing me. I despise having this side still, the old me should've left a while ago, she shouldn't be here and trying to meddle in businesses that aren't hers. 

Staring at him with emotionless eyes, "Explain."

"I handled the drugs exactly as you told me to! Getting them to the clubs downtown where I managed to sell some of it, without getting caught. They heard it was Martinelli drugs and sought me out instantly. But as the night progressed word must've gotten around, some man suddenly dragged me from my seat and pulled me into an alley where four others were hiding. They assaulted me, beat me up and left me in a ditch. Alone. My drugs were gone when I woke up, they stole it from me."

He lifts up his shirt and shows me the dark bruising on his stomach, there's a deep cut running down his eyebrow, he does in fact look somewhat ruined. My consciousness seeps through and I scoff at the feelings suddenly streaming in my veins. This man isn't above the age of 21 and I hate that he needs to sell drugs in order to survive.

The darkness of the alley allows me to break my facade, in front of this stupid and young boy. "I won't kill you," I state with finality. 

He sighs in relief and puts his hands up in front of us, "Thank you, Ms. Martinelli. I understand you won't trust me with your drugs again, but I would like to keep it up with selling if you want me to?"

Different scenarios run through my mind, "I'll accept on one condition."

"Deal."

"I'll provide you with a gun and you'll use it if need be, do you understand?" 

"Oh, no. You don't have to protect me to that extent!" He rushes out.

Tilting my head to the side, "I'm protecting my drugs and my money, are you in or not?"

Having Mike selling drugs for me and earning a living that way, is much better than me dropping him on the ground and him leaving to find some other provider. He could end up in the hands of the mafia and my omertá isn't as strict as Xavier's. Mike would die in that environment. This is the best way for him to escape, he can make money and be okay while doing so. 

"What happens if I end up shooting someone?" He whispers, his nervous eyes cut to the faraway street. 

"I'll give you a number, call it if you need someone to clean up. Save him in your phone as 'Rocco', simply tell him the location and he'll have it done. No questions asked and you get the hell out of there, do you hear me?" I need to ensure he understands what this entails, he shouldn't be mixed up with any of this. I'm giving him a simple out here.

"I've never killed anyone before," The shock hidden beneath his words is clear. 

"I'm not asking you to, either. I'm expecting you to protect yourself though, and a gun will do the job and ensure that we get our money. You will be the best at selling and make sure to keep your head down low, don't allow them to seek you out. Now, are you in or not?" I ask him, the finality on my voice isn't to be mistaken. 

Mike nods his head slowly, "I'm in."